


press

by nex_et_nox



Series: river on the run [2]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Feels, Gen, why can't this family just get along
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 03:29:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12448737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nex_et_nox/pseuds/nex_et_nox
Summary: press, noun: 1. newspapers or journalists viewed collectively; coverage in newspapers or magazines. 2. forcefully put forward (an opinion, claim, or course of action); make strong efforts to persuade or force (someone) to do or provide something.Cass likes hanging out with her brother, Steph likes hanging out with her best friend and her best friend's brother, Bruce really wants his son to join the family again, and the paparazzi are collectively Sirs and Mesdames Constantly-Referenced-But-Never-Actually-Appearing-In-This-Fic.





	press

**Author's Note:**

> idk, I just haven't posted anything for a while
> 
> supposed to be for batfam week 2017 but uh...that didn't end up happening
> 
> follows _pester_ but you can read this without it

“You need to stop hanging out with me in public,” Jason said, pointing his spoon at Cass.

“Why?” Steph asked before Cass could, what with her mouth busy being full of frozen yogurt.

“Because I like being dead and out of the spotlight,” Jason said. “No one cares about you, Steph – no offense –”

“It’s cool,” Steph said.

“—but paps are always following Cass around.”

“I don’t want them to,” Cass said, slouching down in the booth. She dug her spoon back into her frankly absurd bowl of froyo and took a bite. Jason honestly would have thought Steph would be the one to go overboard with toppings, but no. It was Cass.

“Die and they’ll leave you alone,” Jason suggested.

“Already have,” Cass said morosely. “Twice. They are still here.”

Jason opened his mouth. Closed it again. “Sucks,” he said.

Cass stuffed another spoonful into her mouth. “Sucks,” she agreed.

* * *

Notably, she did not agree to stay away from Jason in public.

* * *

The problem was, Jason may have been hanging out with his family more, but he hadn’t been hanging out with the _Waynes_. Even when he was, that was pretty much always at the manor, with just the family there.

Cass’ birthday gala blew that out of the water.

Between the shopping he, Cass, and Steph had done together before the gala, and the photo someone had snapped of him hugging Cass after wishing her well, there were grounds for the start of speculation. Add to the fact that he _kept_ hanging out with Cass, given she was the only member of his family he could stand on a daily basis—

Look. Jason really didn’t want to wake up to a headline debating whether or not he was dating his own sister. That was some Game of Thrones shit he _did not want to deal with_.

Solution: stop hanging out with Cass in public. Stay away from any Waynes, and in turn he wouldn’t have to deal with the paparazzi or any disturbing speculation.

Simple.

* * *

“Little brother,” Cass said directly behind him.

“Jesus _fuck_ , Cass!” Jason said, forcing his hand to drop from where he’d reached for his gun. “Don’t do that!”

“You need more vegetables,” she said.

“Wha – I eat plenty of vegetables,” Jason said. “I – wait, you’re basing this off my shopping cart, right?” Cass looked shifty. “Have you been going through my cupboards?” An even worse possibility occurred to him. “Have you been talking with _Alfred_?”

“No,” Cass said, still with the shifty eyes. She pulled a can of Pringles out of his shopping cart, looking them over doubtfully before putting them back on the shelf. “These are not real potatoes.”

They were conspiring against him.

Jason closed his eyes and counted to ten.

“I know they’re not real potatoes,” he said. “But they’re good with sandwiches.”

Cass wrinkled her nose.

“You know what,” Jason said, “I’m a grown adult. I can buy Pringles if I want to.”

He grabbed the can Cass had put back on the shelf and tossed it in his shopping cart, daring her to say anything about it.

She didn’t, but she followed behind him the whole way through the store as he worked his way through his shopping list. She even managed to slip in a few things that he didn’t catch until they were at the register.

Broccoli, a package of chicken breasts (he was actually going to keep that), apple juice—

“Cass, buy your own ice cream,” Jason said.

“It’s yours.”

“It’s not mine. I don’t need any—” He paused, looking at the label.

“Bruce said you liked Neopolitan?” Cass said, phrasing it as a question.

“Yeah,” Jason said, a little soft. He cleared his throat. “I thought you were getting onto me about eating my vegetables and shit.”

“Ice cream is part milk,” Cass said, considering. “Milk helps growing bones.”

“ _Oh_ my god,” Jason said. “I’m like a foot taller than you. I _am_ grown.”

“I will buy the ice cream for myself,” Cass said, reaching for it.

“Whoa, hold on,” Jason said. “I was arguing with your logic, not about the ice cream itself. It’s mine now.”

Back at his apartment, unloading his groceries, Jason found out that – probably sometime while they were arguing about the ice cream – Cass had managed to slip onto the conveyor belt a couple of squashes, three cans of green beans, and one single, solitary sweet potato.

He was kind of impressed.

* * *

“Hey, do you like Chaucer?” Spoiler asked, ducking under a desperate punch and sweeping her leg out to knock the would-be-mugger’s feet out from under him.

“Eh,” Jason said, tilting his hand back and forth in the classic ‘kinda’ motion.

“Do you _understand_ Chaucer?” Spoiler asked, zip-tying the mugger’s hands behind his back.

“Eh,” Jason said again.

Spoiler bounced over to him. “You gotta help me,” she said. “He’s, like, a step away from literally kicking my ass. I have _midterms_ , Hood.”

“If you stop holding my hands I will consider it,” Jason said, staring disdainfully down at the purple gloves that were trapping his hands between them.

Spoiler dropped his hands like they were burning, but bounced up and down a few times. “I think I love you,” she said. “I’ll buy you coffee tomorrow, what’s your favorite?”

“No outside food or drink in Gotham libraries,” Jason said automatically.

The mugger groaned at Spoiler’s feet. Jason considered walking over to kick him but figured it probably wouldn’t be worth it. Besides, he could hear sirens. It was doubtful they were there for a mugger, but it’d be safer to clear out anyway.

“I’ll buy you one after our study session,” Spoiler said, already heading for the nearest fire escape.

It was a decent enough deal.

* * *

“What’s Cass doing here?” Jason asked as they walked into the coffee shop.

“Wow, what a weird coincidence that she’s meeting us here!” Stephanie said brightly, tucking her phone away in her pocket.

Jason narrowed his eyes. “Wait a minute,” he said, “are you backing out of our deal?”

“Of course not!”

“So why’s Cass here?”

“She’s paying,” Steph said, completely free of guilt.

“You unbelievable cheapskate.”

“Alas,” Steph said, “I am but a poor college student, living solely by my wits and the kindness of strangers—”

“She’s not a fucking stranger, and you can afford to drop four dollars on a cup of coffee for me explaining Chaucer to you for an hour straight,” Jason said.

“Alas!” Steph said, louder this time. “I am but a poor college student—”

“I’m going to punch you so hard in the kidneys you’ll piss blood for a week,” Jason informed her. Prudently, Steph took a step away from him.

Cass reached up and flicked his nose.

“Ow! Cass!” Jason said.

“Rude,” Cass said, and walked up to the counter.

Steph followed her, leaning over the counter to excitedly tell the barista, “Guess who’s going to pass her midterms! _This girl_!”

Jason hated them so much.

* * *

Cass sat down, grabbed Jason’s bottle, and took a sip of his beer. She very obviously considered spitting it straight back out again.

“Would you stop that?” Jason demanded, grabbing it back. “I’m twenty-one for real this time, you have no excuse.”

The bartender was obviously listening in, barely holding back some kind of laugh, but Jason wasn’t concerned. A seedy place like this didn’t really care if he had just all but confessed to previously using a fake ID.

“My excuse is that you are my brother,” Cass said. She waved at the bartender. “Gin and tonic, please.”

Jason rolled his eyes.

Cass spun on her barstool to face him. She looked seriously into his eyes. “You are my brother,” she said. “My…brother from another mother.”

Jason spat out his mouthful of beer, choking on his laughter.

“Where’d you hear that phrase?” he finally managed to get out, still laughing.

“Dick,” Cass said, looking very proud of herself. She accepted her drink from the bartender and took a sip.

“Okay, I’ve got another one for you,” Jason said. He met her eyes, the same way she had. “Cass, you’re my sister from another mister.”

Cass’ face lit up with a grin, then slowly folded into a frown.

“What?” Jason asked.

“Same mister,” Cass said, almost morose.

“ _Excuse_ me?”

“Bruce,” Cass said. “Same mister.”

“Goddammit,” Jason said, and made the – in hindsight – quite unfortunate decision to lay his head down on the bar.

* * *

“Jason,” Bruce said, one night after patrol.

“Yeah?” Jason asked warily. He’d been planning on crashing in one of the manor’s spare rooms, but depending on how this conversation went, he might be booking it to one of his safe houses instead.

“I would like to have a conversation with you,” Bruce said, looking intensely uncomfortable.

“About…?” If this was another argument about guns or Red Hood—

“About – certain events. Recently,” Bruce said.

Jason’s lips pressed into a thin line. He snatched up his gloves, which he had just taken off, and started pulling them back on in jerky motions.

“Save it, I can guess,” he snapped.

“Jason, it’s not about Red Hood,” Bruce said, practically the only thing that could get Jason to pause. And it did. “It’s – connected, but not what I wanted to discuss with you.”

Jason let out a slow breath. “Okay,” he said, voice level. “Then what is it?”

“Would you mind discussing this in the manor?” Bruce deflected.

“…Fine.”

* * *

“Recently, I asked Barbara’s help in drawing up new documents for you,” Bruce said, laying a folder on his desk and pushing it across to Jason. “One for if you want an airtight identity for civilian life, and one if you – wanted to be a Wayne.”

Jason stared down at the folder, unable to make himself open it.

“Why?”

“I’m concerned about you,” Bruce said frankly. Jason’s eyes snapped up to meet his. “And yes, I realize how this sounds coming from me, but – I’m concerned that you’re putting too much of yourself into Red Hood.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Jason said, which was pretty much his reflexive response to whenever Bruce – or Dick, or Tim – even obliquely made remarks about their distaste for the Red Hood persona.

And it really _was_ too fucking hypocritical for Jason to stand.

“At any rate,” Bruce continued, “you need a legal identity.”

“Thanks, but I like being dead,” Jason said, and walked out.

Looked like he’d be crashing in a safe house tonight after all.

* * *

Jason pointedly avoided Bruce during the next couple of patrols, hoping he’d get the message. Jason was _fine_ by himself. His IDs undoubtedly weren’t as good as what Barbara had put together for him, but Barbara’s were foolproof. He’d be alive again if he accepted one of those IDs, and there were some advantages to being dead that he wasn’t willing to give up yet.

For one, the fact that the occasional paps who still followed Cassandra Wayne around weren’t able to identify him.

(He really needed to get her to stop hanging out with him in public. Hadn’t he meant to do that like two months ago?)

Jason sat on the roof of a building, legs dangling over the edge as he stared out over Gotham.

Not long after that, he heard the faint sound of footsteps behind him.

Black Bat joined him, but she stood, rather than sitting. She didn’t say anything. Then, casually, she propped her arm on top of Jason’s helmet and leaned on him.

“Are you _serious_ ,” Jason complained.

Black Bat didn’t say anything and she didn’t move, but Jason knew that she was smiling under her mask.

* * *

“It’s only a matter of time until tabloids and the press start really digging into who you are,” Batman said.

Jason jumped. “Jesus fuck!” he said, managing to lower it from a shout just in time. Batman had no goddamn right to sneak up on him during patrol like that. Also, was the _I’m avoiding you_ message really not clear enough, Bruce? “Don’t do that!”

“It would be easier to deal with if you had a valid identity,” Batman added, ignoring Jason’s words completely.

“This thing again? Could you just leave it alone?”

“People are curious, and there’s only so many times Oracle can crash tabloid websites.”

“So I’ll stay away from you all in real life, okay?” Jason said, turning to leave. He’d said that again and again, mostly to himself.

Why did it strangely hurt?

“No,” Batman said, quick and vehement.

Jason stopped.

“Please come home, Jason,” Bruce said.

* * *

Jason laid on his shitty couch, staring up at the cracked ceiling.

_Please come home, Jason_.

One airtight ID for a civilian, or one for a Wayne.

_Please come home_.

He knew what he wanted to do.

He didn’t know what he wanted to do.

Fuck.

* * *

“When do you want your new birthday to be?” Bruce asked.

Jason faltered. “I beg your pardon?” he said, foot propped up on a chair in the Cave and boot halfway unlaced.

“Your new birthday,” Bruce repeated. “What date do you want?”

Jason gaped at him.

“August sixteenth was Jason Todd’s,” Bruce said. “Do you have a preference for a new one?”

“Hey!” Jason said, finally finding his voice. “What the fuck are you – I never agreed to this!”

“I was tired of waiting,” Bruce said.

“You have to choose a date later than January twenty-sixth,” Cass said, suddenly appearing at Jason’s side. “You will always be my little brother.”

“Were you in on this the whole time?” Jason asked, vaguely betrayed.

“Sister from the same mister,” Cass said.

Bruce’s brow furrowed.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Jason said, and stomped away, untied bootlaces or no.

* * *

Even through the full goddamn face mask, Jason could tell – from a _distance_ , even – that Black Bat was pouting.

* * *

(He knew what he wanted to do.)

* * *

Bruce apparently didn’t notice Jason curled up in one of the armchairs as he walked into the library. It made it all the more pleasing when Jason looked up from his book and said, “July thirty-first.”

It was the absolute smallest flinch Jason had ever seen, but oh, he’d damn well savor it.

“Excuse me?” Bruce said.

“New birthday,” Jason said. “You asked, that’s my answer.”

He’d briefly considered saying April twenty-seventh, just to be a dick, but even Jason felt that hurting Bruce that way might be a little below the belt. Additionally, he didn’t want to freak himself out every time he had to look at his new ID.

July thirty-first it was.

“May I ask why?” Bruce said politely, like he somehow suspected this was a trap. He knew Jason way too well, because it totally was.

“Sure,” Jason said. “It’s close enough to my real birthday, it satisfies the ‘after January’ clause of Cass’ request, _and_ ,” and he lifted his book so Bruce could see the cover and gave a shit-eating grin, “it’s accurate, ‘cause I’m the goddamn Boy-Who-Lived.”

Bruce stared at Jason’s copy of _Deathly Hallows_ , then at Jason’s face, and then sighed heavily, like he was regretting everything in his life.

Ha. Served him right for adopting Jason again.

**Author's Note:**

> Cass is...a food ninja. Able to slip vegetables into her brother's groceries (and cupboards, when he's being stubborn), with absolutely ease. She learned this from Alfred.
> 
> Jason has definitely read all the Harry Potter books and seen all the movies and he dragged Bruce down with him when he was younger.
> 
> (Bruce: He made me watch all eight of the movies. I don't even like Harry Potter.  
> Jason Todd, then and now: What are you talking about? You love Harry Potter. You've seen all eight movies!  
> Bruce: *stares into the camera like he's in The Office*)
> 
> Jason pointedly absents himself from the premises when Bruce holds the press conference/makes a statement about his "newest" adopted son. He actually leaves the country -- _sorry Bruce, sudden mission, my teammates needed me, I couldn't put it off; oh, was that press conference supposed to be_ today? _fancy that._
> 
> as ever, I love Cass and Jason interactions and pull a lot of inspiration for their relationship from @Lysical's amazing fics


End file.
